


He Who Rules with an Iron Heart

by SoftServeTY



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Knight!Johnny, Light Angst, Loss of Control, M/M, Making Love, Overstimulation, Secret Relationship, Smut, Sweet, prince!doyoung
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-12 00:19:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20162560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoftServeTY/pseuds/SoftServeTY
Summary: Doyoung knows his duties as a prince. He knows that his main focus should be his kingdom and the people within it. He should not be swayed by his emotions and should be ready to rule with an iron fist when the times comes. But, he also knows that he's in love with a certain knight.





	He Who Rules with an Iron Heart

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted give a shot at writing a royalty au and this is the result of that and me writing this instead of sleeping lol
> 
> Also, this definitely is not consistently historically accurate, but the sole purpose of this is the smut soooooo, enjoy that hehe
> 
> Also also, I decided to use Youngho instead of Johnny because I felt like it sounded better in the context of the story.

It is yet another dreadfully boring day, one with the same smell of old books that Doyoung can’t bear to smell anymore, let alone read from their faded text that made his eyes strain. One with the same monotone voice lecturing him on proper etiquette, how to sit properly, how to mind his manners when eating, and how to greet new people that he meets. One trapped inside the palace walls, forbidden from visiting the town in fear of the possible war that was brewing with their neighboring kingdom.

So much to do every day, and it’s always the same damn schedule. He sighs, listening to the sound of his footsteps clacking against the floor as he walks with his tutor, on their way to the kitchen so that he can get some first hand experience on how to recognize different sorts of poisons. It’s extremely quiet, so much to the point that their footsteps seem almost too loud in the long corridor. Doyoung glares at that back of his tutor with whom it’s nearly impossible to keep a conversation with. His posture is completely stiff and rivaling perfection. How this man had instructed Doyoung since he was a child, but still showed so much as an ounce of familiarity is a mystery to him.

Wallowing in boredom, Doyoung is left to count the number of his steps, and be wary of how heavy he is with them. Because he’s sure that’s something that his instructor would love to chew him out over. With his attuned sense of hearing, he picks up on the sound of footsteps coming their way almost instantly. If his ears could, he’s almost certain that they would have twitched to face the noise like a cat. They reach the end of the corridor, which then veers to the right only to be led into another corridor. It’s that new hallway where Doyoung finds the source of the footsteps he hears.

Four people are walking towards them, three of which seem to be escorting someone. The group draws near, and it is then that Doyoung can now tell that they are very serious faced guards and someone who looks out of place. The person being led huffs a quiet puff of air when his eyes meet Doyoung’s — a laugh to some degree. Then, without warning, one of the guards turns and strikes the man across the face with the back of his hand. The person who had been hit didn’t even make a sound, in fact, dare Doyoung say he looks even more challenging when he meets the guard with a burning gaze.

“What’s all this about?” Doyoung halts, ignoring the roll of his instructor’s eyes due to postponing their schedule.

“I caught him stealing food from the kitchen, Your Highness” the guard who had hit the victim answers.

“And what is it that you plan to do with him?” Doyoung asks as he quirks a suspicious eyebrow towards the group.

“He will be executed, Sir” he responds curtly. Doyoung takes note of the smug grin that flashes across the criminal’s face.

“Since when do we execute thieves? That seems a little harsh for some petty thievery, don’t you think?” Doyoung huffs a laugh, but the guard does not find his question funny in the slightest. He doesn’t even answer, keeping his expression stiff.

The air is still and quiet between them, and Doyoung can see that the guards are just itching for him to dismiss them. “Send him to my room” he finally says, revelling in the way that it makes the guards gasp for air like a fish out of water.

“But, Your Majesty...that is not safe” the guard blubbers.

“And from now on, inform me before there will be any executions. Or else I will tell my father how you just questioned my order” Doyoung’s eyes narrow as he dips his tone into one that he knows instills fear in others. “I believe that all this thief needs is a stern scolding. But, should he try to best me, I’ll kill him myself” Doyoung stares the criminal in the eye, grazing his hand lightly over the knife that is strapped to his thigh under his tunic. The guards know that he is trained well in the art of combat, a skill that a young prince such as he should have. He may not be strong, but he is fast, and he knows every vital point in the body that can make his opponent bleed to their death with one stab or cut. “Now, carry on about your duties” he dismisses them.

The guards all give him a respectful bow before marching away with the criminal. Doyoung watches them leave, too absorbed in the way the criminal glances at him over his shoulder and gives him a grateful smile to hear his instructor say, “Come along, Your Highness.”

It’s about midday when Doyoung tells his tutor that he’s feeling ill and would like to retire to his room. Though Doyoung can see his desire to refuse, he can not deny the Prince. He goes to his bedroom, only to be met with a displeased guard and the thief when he opens the door. He tells the guard that he may leave, and the guard looks wary to do so, but Doyoung shoots him with his dagger eyes — a look that can kill — and the guard accepts that the Prince can handle himself.

Doyoung waits several minutes after the guard leaves, walking across the room to take off his shoes and setting them in his wardrobe. “You FOOL!” he finally says — more of a hiss really. “What would you have done had I not been there to help you?!”

“I have my ways of getting out of trouble” the thief hums, crossing his arms and looking overly boastful for Doyoung’s taste.

“This isn’t funny, Youngho” he scolds, shaking his head in disbelief at the pure immaturity of the other.

Yes, they know each other. Far too well. Youngho is one of Doyoung’s many knights. A man who would not hesitate to give up his life for him. But, they know things about each other that countless other people don’t. Things that a typical knight and prince should not know about one another. Like how Youngho’s rugged body feels against Doyoung’s pristine one, what the other looks like when they’re overtaken by pleasure, what it feels like to be held in each other’s arms after coming down from a blissful orgasm, and what it sounds like to whisper sweet nothings to each other as they let sleep take them into another day. To put it simply for a not so simple word, they are in love.

“Tell me, you weren’t the one stealing, were you?” Doyoung asks, doubt filling his words, because he knows that Youngho knows better than to do something so idiotic.

“Of course not, you know that I would never be caught” he grins smugly, continuing promptly after Doyoung shows no sign of being swayed by his cuteness. “It’s Mark’s birthday, and he had heard that there are delicious sweets within the palace. He was dead set on treating himself to some, even after I him to not step out of line. So, I tailed him. Lo and behold, he accidentally knocked into some pans, alerting the chefs and staff. Naturally, I rushed in, shuffling Mark out of harm's way and took the blame for myself” Youngho explains the situation nonchalantly, as if he hadn’t been knocking on death’s door hours ago.

Doyoung's mind has to flit briefly to who Mark is. He is another knight, a fairly knew one who Youngho has taken under his wing. He says that he sees him as the little brother that he never had.

“How can you be so reckless? What am I supposed to do if I lose you?” Doyoung feels bad for dismissing the fate that Mark would have had if Youngho had not stepped in. But, he can’t help but feel anxious if Youngho had taken Mark’s fate instead. He would have disappeared, and Doyoung would have never known what happened to him. And that scared him more than anything else in this godforsaken world.

“You would train another knight to replace me” Youngho replies wittily. But, Doyoung is far from amused.

“Don’t fuck with me! Please don’t joke about that, Youngho.” While usually he would like to continue to play the situation off lightly, it’s hard to do that when Doyoung is looking at him with such apparent heartache. “You worry me sick” Doyoung’s eyes shift into a softer expression, one that Youngho has only seen directed towards himself, never anyone else. This level of Doyoung’s kindness was only reserved for him.

“I’m sorry, Your Highness” Youngho mumbles, bowing his head just the slightest.

“Don’t call me that, God I’m so sick of hearing it” Doyoung grumbles, still clearly worked up over his huge scare. His nerves feel like they’re going haywire.

“Understood, Doyoung.” His name rolls off Youngho’s tongue with such ease, the very word helping to calm the sporadic beating of his stressed heart. Doyoung sits down on his bed, feeling too emotionally drained for his legs to properly support him any longer. The room is quiet, and Doyoung wonders for a moment why Youngho hasn’t either left or stepped further into the room.

“You know...we’re going to have to say our goodbyes some day” Youngho says out of nowhere. It’s like a punch to his gut, and Doyoung is thankful that he decided to sit. Because, he’s sure that sentence would have sent him crumbling to his knees had he been standing. “The likelihood of war is growing stronger each day, and it’s obvious that I’ll be sent to fight.”

“I’ll order you to stay here to keep the castle safe” Doyoung interjects before Youngho can say anymore, scared of what he might hear.

“That’s what the guards are for, Doyoung. They have a duty to the King and so do I.” Doyoung hates how levelheaded Youngho is. But, it’s precisely that which makes him a skilled knight, able to make clear decisions in the heat of battle.

“You have a duty to _me_” Doyoung argues. He’s aware that he sounds like a spoiled brat, and usually he wouldn’t be caught dead acting this way. But if there’s one thing that he’ll be spoiled for, it’s Youngho.

“Only you know of that though. The rest of the kingdom does not know, nor will they approve of it if they find out” Youngho reasons.

Doyoung holds his tongue, he has so much to say, but he doesn’t know where to begin without breaking down.

“If the war doesn’t take me first, then it will take you. You know that if it doesn’t end in battle, then it will end in marriage.” Doyoung winces at the way Youngho’s voice becomes sharper at that. He can feel the pain and resentment in his words at the thought of Doyoung marrying another person.

“That’s what Gong Myung is for” Doyoung is so selfish, throwing his older brother under the bus to save his own skin.

“Perhaps...but you can’t rule out the very likely possibility, Doyoung” Youngho softens his voice again. And Doyoung is wishing that he hadn’t told Youngho to use his name right now, because it hurt like hell to have him say his name under such unfair circumstances.

They were quiet, the deafening silence that Doyoung hates so much. He tries to calm himself, taking deep, slow breaths to steady his frantic heart that’s beating so hard it hurts.

“Is there anything else that you wish from me, Your Majesty?” Youngho switches back on his proper facade.

Doyoung swallows the lump in his throat, willing the tears to stop burning at his eyes. “Yes...” he mumbles, hardly audible from his strained vocal chords. “I want you to undress me...I tire and wish to go to bed” Doyoung says as he finally looks Youngho in the eye again.

Doyoung can see the way Youngho wavers at that, he can see the cogs turning in his head. They both know what he really means, because Doyoung has an unhealthy habit of using sex as a coping mechanism when he’s stressed. But, without saying anything, Youngho complies and steps over to Doyoung.

He unties the knot at the top of his dark blue tunic, and his hands are annoyingly stable compared to Doyoung who feels like he’s splitting at the seams. Youngho keeps eye contact with Doyoung while he continues to the buttons of Doyoung’s shirt. He’s taking his time, and Doyoung is torn between wanting him to get on with it and wanting this to last forever. The more buttons that Youngho unclasps, the more he lowers his head. When Doyoung’s chest begins to show, Youngho dips his head to ghost kisses over his milky skin.

The buttons of Doyoung’s tunic only go halfway down his torso, and Youngho is kissing each inch of skin that he unveils. Doyoung shivers, Youngho’s touch feels like not enough but too much at the same time. When he reaches the end of the buttons, he lingers at the base of his sternum, daring enough to glance up at Doyoung through his lashes, but not enough to continue without permission.

To Doyoung’s dismay, he’s quickly growing restless at the lack of Youngho’s skin against his. He bites back his pride — because a prince should show nothing but calm and restraint — but those words don’t exist when Youngho’s hands are on him. He grasps the hem of his tunic and pulls it over his head with more desperation than he would have liked to reveal, swiftly grabbing Youngho’s hands and places them on his sides.

Youngho appears briefly surprised by Doyoung’s haste, but then that smile of his that pulls at Doyoung’s heartstrings tugs at his lips. He glides his hands up and down Doyoung’s waist, taking in every bump and dip, memorizing them with his fingers. When his hands land on Doyoung’s hips, he pushes against them, signaling the Prince to lay back. He does and crawls his way back up the bed towards the headboard, controlling the growl in his throat when he realizes that Youngho is close behind him.

The elder hovers over top of him, continuing about his ministrations from before. He alternates from kisses and just brushing his lips atop Doyoung’s increasingly sensitive skin. One of his thumbs tweaks at one of Doyoung’s nipples while he takes the other one into his mouth. A strained breath gets caught in Doyoung's throat, a hybrid between a gasp and a moan, and he can’t help but to push into the much wanted contact. He entwines his fingers into Youngho’s hair, shamefully emitting a whine when the feeling is short lived, because Youngho drops his head low.

He presses butterfly kisses along the expanse of Doyoung’s tummy, toned, but still soft from his pampering. Up until now, they had all been closed mouth kisses, but something about Doyoung’s delicate torso makes Youngho want to eat him right up. That’s how he finds himself gnawing ever so lightly, grazing the skin with his teeth only to soothe it with gentle licks afterwards. Doyoung can’t help the way he’s started rolling his hips, thoroughly turned on to the point that he can feel his fevered cock straining against the confines of his pants. Youngho notices, and the satisfied grin that it pulls from him has Doyoung both mildly aggravated and positively smitten. Youngho doesn’t give in right away though, no, he’d much rather pick Doyoung apart piece by piece right now.

He pulls down the waistband of Doyoung’s pants just enough to see his happy trail before moving his head to the side, placing open mouthed kisses along his protruding hip bone. He lets his hands replace the area on his stomach where his mouths once occupied, scraping his nails across the worked up skin. Doyoung shivers at the mix between Youngho’s soft kisses and the roughness of the drag of his nails and lets out a shaky breath, settling into the euphoric feeling. But, as soon as he gets comfortable, Youngho pulls away from him. The elder isn’t going to allow him the liberty to get so cozy right now.

Doyoung is growing tired of this push and pull game that Youngho is trying to play, and he is about to protest, until he feels the knight hook his fingers underneath the waistband of his pants again. This time, he actually pulls them off — slowly, but finally they’re off. Half of him wants to close his legs to hide the pitiful state that his cock is in — the tip red and swollen, leaking an alarming amount of precum just from their foreplay.

But, to Doyoung’s defense, they haven’t been able to do this in almost a month now. It’s been hard for Youngho to find the time or energy, having to train practically all day in precaution of the oncoming war, not to mention his nighttime job of standing guard along the castle wall. Even before the excess training, it was hard for him and Doyoung to have these sort of moments together. And typically, Doyoung had never been a morning person, but after he met Youngho, he learned to love mornings. It was at the time when soft, yellow rays of sunlight mixed with the red and purple of the dawn sky trickled through the windows that Doyoung would be awoken to the feeling of Youngho pressing chaste kisses to the back of his shoulder. After Youngho finished his night shift, he would sneak into Doyoung’s bedroom, where they would quietly make love under the veil of song birds whistling their morning chorus.

Doyoung often times would still be half asleep when Youngho would slip inside of him, mumbling hushed words into the back of his head that Doyoung can’t quite understand because he’s in his own world. He didn’t mind it at all though, there was something about being filled while he was still partly asleep that left him feeling like he was floating. Youngho’s caresses and lazy rolls of his hips sending his mind and body soaring.

The throb of his neglected cock makes him miss those moments between them, and all he can do is cherish this moment and do the best that he can to stop the onslaught of war. Youngho looks at it and coos fondly, settling between his legs to give him the attention that he needs. But, Youngho doesn’t indulge him yet. Instead, he spreads Doyoung’s legs apart further, trailing kisses along the inside of his thighs.

Doyoung moans lowly in his throat, torn between wanting more and being satisfied with Youngho’s kisses, nibbles, and licks. Youngho takes a chunk of Doyoung’s skin between his teeth, applying enough pressure to make Doyoung wince and flinch. He wants to mark him — god he wants to mark him so bad — but he knows that Doyoung’s wash ladies would throw a fit if they found any clear sexual marks on him. While Youngho would like to see their confounded expressions, he’s sure that the aftermath would not be pretty. So, he swallows down that dream, hoping that maybe one day — if not in this lifetime, then another — he and Doyoung can be together freely.

Doyoung reaches a hand down to guide Youngho’s face where he wants him, fed up with his insistent teasing. After Doyoung moves Youngho’s face, Youngho takes his hand in his and kisses the Prince’s knuckles. A polite gesture that should be nothing more than a symbol of respect that he gets from countless people when they greet him, but when it’s Youngho doing it, Doyoung can feel a warm wave travel to the pit of his stomach.

Youngho looks up, his eyes locked on Doyoung’s as he presses the softest kiss to the tip of Doyoung’s cock. Doyoung positively writhes, getting off far more on the image rather than the feeling. It shouldn’t be allowed for him to feel this good from such minuscule touches, but it does, and he’s on cloud nine. Youngho places another to Doyoung’s shaft, keeping his eyes on Doyoung’s while the Prince’s body is thrumming in anticipation.

Youngho’s eyelids flutter shut, and he _finally_ indulges Doyoung, taking him into his mouth. He didn’t even build him up after all that teasing, no, he took Doyoung all the way to the hilt. Doyoung bucks his hips at the overwhelming sensation, greedy for the warmth of Youngho’s mouth after being denied for so long. Youngho captures Doyoung’s hips in his palms, holding the Prince down with enough force to hold him still. Doyoung lets out a frustrated whine, one that Youngho answers in a mocking hum with his lips still wrapped around the younger’s cock. Doyoung’s thighs shake, his muscles twitching involuntarily from the pleasure.

Doyoung lifts a trembling hand to swipe through Youngho’s hair, pushing his bangs out of his eyes so that he can get a better look at him, and also because he just _needs_ to touch Youngho right now. Another hot wave courses to below his stomach and he can feel his cock throb with a pulse of precum emptying into Youngho’s mouth. Youngho gladly welcomes it, swiping his tongue over the Prince’s slit and bobbing his head up to suck on the tip. Doyoung arches the small of his back, a sharp moan ringing out as he throws his head back.

Youngho takes that as his moment to make Doyoung lose his mind while he is already caught off guard. He sucks slowly at his head, licking the underside of his tip while his hand works the rest of Doyoung’s length that isn’t in his mouth. Doyoung’s hips kick back up with their thrusting now that one of Youngho’s hands is off of his hips. Youngho lets him fuck his mouth, urging on Doyoung’s orgasm with hungry hums. He wants him to come, wants him to let loose into his mouth.

Doyoung comes with a strangled moan of Youngho’s name, his grip pulling at the soft strands of Youngho’s hair and his vision going blurry. Youngho takes it all, dipping his head low to milk out all that he can from the Prince. Doyoung shivers and tries to pull Youngho off because he’s sensitive and the overstimulation is too much. Youngho eases off of him and presses a few more pecks to the inside of Doyoung’s thighs again for good measure before sitting up.

He takes in the view of the love of his life spread out on the sheets in front of him, cheeks tinted a beautiful red, panting shallow breaths, and gazing back up at him with sex laden eyes while he spits out Doyoung’s come onto his fingers. He presses the slick digits against Doyoung’s rim, huffing a fond chuckle when the younger opens his legs even wider for him.

It’s funny, Doyoung has no problem throwing around orders to other people, but when it comes to Youngho and these sort of intimate scenarios between them, he completely submits and lets Youngho take control of him. It must be scary; to be a prince and yet allow someone to take hold of his body and soul. Doyoung’s trust in him is a force to be reckoned with, his trust in his knight and his trust in his lover.

He eases in a finger, steady with his pacing and watching Doyoung’s expression intently to make sure that he’s not hurting him. They haven’t done this in a while, and the last thing he wants to do is inflict pain on the Prince. But, Doyoung is far from pain, in fact, he’s swallowing up Youngho nicely, and that comfort resonates to Youngho in the form of the soft moans escaping Doyoung’s lips.

When he’s able to move the first finger around with relative ease, Youngho enters a second. There’s a clear difference in the feeling, but again, it doesn’t hurt. All it does is leave Doyoung craving more, like the warmth of having his knight inside of him. Youngho bends down to lean over top of Doyoung, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. Doyoung grimaces, displeased at the taste on his lips and the knowledge that he had obviously had his come in his mouth.

“What? You didn’t complain about me kissing you that morning when I ate you out” Youngho huffs a sly laugh, revelling in the gasp that it pulls out of the younger, who then proceeds to hit his shoulder in defiance.

“Why are you taking so long? You should be sleeping right now, you have the night shift tonight” Doyoung whines, trying to take the attention off of himself and off of that embarrassing memory when Youngho had him coming untouched all over the sheets. He tugs at the hem of Youngho’s shirt, wanting to hurry this along so that he can feel Youngho inside of him again. Masking his desire in the form of worry for the elder’s well-being.

“Because a prince deserves to be handled with care” Youngho hums against Doyoung’s neck as he kisses and licks the sensitive skin on the underside of his jaw.

“You only treat me so delicately because I’m a prince” Doyoung tuts, his eyes glancing off to the side and his bottom lip pursing into an obvious pout.

Youngho lifts his head to look at Doyoung’s face again. “No, I treat you so delicately because you’re Kim Doyoung” he smiles through the words, his dimples showing on his face. He presses a chaste kiss to the side of Doyoung’s mouth, because the younger’s head is turned away from him. “_My_ Kim Doyoung” he continues, and it’s that assertiveness that has Doyoung’s neck snapping to look him in the eye.

Youngho kisses Doyoung flat on his lips, pressing his tongue in when the younger moans into his mouth. “Your bloodline doesn’t matter to me, you would still be my prince no matter what” he says breathlessly, pulling just centimeters away from Doyoung’s lips.

His fingers are still working inside of him, and a particular curl of his fingers press right into Doyoung’s prostate. Doyoung arches into the contact, moaning thickly into Youngho’s mouth.

“F-fuck Youngho! I need you in me right now” he begs, wiggling his hips on the knight’s fingers for more. “Please!” he adds, and god it’s immensely satisfying to have a prince be so eager.

He pulls his fingers out, and Doyoung has to restrain the whine itching in his throat from the loss of contact as he clenches around nothing. Youngho reaches over Doyoung to fumble in the drawer of his bedside table for the trusted bottle of oils that they’ve grown used to putting there. He rids himself of his clothes, and Doyoung watches him longingly while the other undresses. Sure, Youngho’s body isn’t as well kept as his of course and he has a few scars to prove it, but Doyoung loves him and the scars that his knight has received from protecting him.

Youngho lubes himself up and uses a bit more on Doyoung’s rim as well before lining himself up to his hole. He places his elbows on both sides of Doyoung’s head, resting on his forearms because he wants to be so close to Doyoung right now. He presses a tender kiss to the Prince’s forehead before easing his way tentatively inside of Doyoung. He notices the way that Doyoung’s breath hitches in his throat, reaching his hand down between them to coax the younger along with slow strokes of his cock.

Doyoung moans deeply in his chest, overwhelmed by the feeling of Youngho’s hand on his cock and by how full he feels inside of him. When Youngho bottoms out, he rests there for a second to allow Doyoung to become used to the intrusion. But, Doyoung is quick to adjust, rolling his hips down onto Youngho’s length to urge him to move.

Youngho growls lowly, an almost predatory noise that Doyoung would find intimidating if he didn’t know that never in a million years would Youngho hurt him. Youngho hardly even thrusts into him, more of a grind into his hips. But, that shallowness of his thrusts keeps a near constant pressure on Doyoung’s prostate, and that has him whining for more as precum pools onto his stomach. Youngho can feel how tight Doyoung is clenching around him, and he knows that if he keeps this up then the Prince will come in no time. That’s why he changes up his tactic to pulling and pushing in and out of Doyoung slowly. He uses long drags of his cock, pulling all the way out to his tip and pushing all the way back in to the hilt. Every thrust reminds Doyoung of how big Youngho is, and just the thought alone has his toes curling, let alone the feeling.

When Doyoung shows no further signs of discomfort, Youngho withdraws his hand from his cock and tangles their fingers together instead. With both of his hands pinned on the sides of his head, he’s left only to take the pleasure that Youngho his giving him. He feels so vulnerable when he’s like this with Youngho, but he likes being able to open up and give his full trust in someone — a rarity in his life.

A particularly loud moan escapes his throat when Youngho angles deliberately into his bundle of nerves. Youngho dives in, slotting his lips against his. “Hush, baby. We can’t have anyone hearing us” he coos, but there’s serious repercussions behind his words. Doyoung clenches around Youngho at the term of endearment, his mind so far gone from the pleasure that he couldn’t care less about being heard.

Youngho leans back up to wrap Doyoung’s legs around his waist, intentionally giving himself a better angle to ruin Doyoung. Doyoung knows that if they’re found out that it would be catastrophic for them, but he can’t bring himself to care when Youngho his looking down at him with hungry eyes and he’s touching Doyoung in all the right ways. It’s nearly impossible for him to silence himself when he wants the world to know that he loves this man, and he loves him back.

Doyoung is growing restless from Youngho’s still gentle thrusts, he wants him to be rougher. If for some reason the universe decides to abandon them, to be cruel and split them apart, then he wants to be able to remember what Youngho feels like against his skin, what he feels like under his skin. And how can these ghostly touches be a memory when he hardly feels them now?

He pushes his heels into the small of Youngho’s back, egging him on for more. Youngho complies of course, anything for his prince. When Youngho slams into his prostate, a blissful yelp emits from Doyoung’s lips. His moans are far too loud from the knight’s harder thrusts, and Youngho has to slam his lips against Doyoung’s to muffle his cries. Doyoung is in heaven and has to constantly fight the urge to pass out from the pleasure, because Youngho is here right now and he’s missed him so much.

He breaks his lips away from Youngho’s, and the knight is about to protest until Doyoung seals them over the skin of his neck instead. Youngho may not be allowed to mark him, but he can mark Youngho. It’s something that he always does and gladly looks forward to. That’s why he’s sad to see that the marks he had left a month ago are gone, promptly changing that fact. Youngho moans, his eyes fluttering open and closed as Doyoung whines into his skin and clenches around his cock even tighter.

“Fuck, Doyoung! I’m gonna come” he growls, his thrusts losing their once steady rhythm.

“In me” Doyoung huffs in between a mix of being a command and a plead.

Youngho’s hips stutter, delivering one final deep slam into the Prince before he’s coming deep inside of him. Doyoung is right behind him, coming from that last thrust right into his prostate and the feeling of Youngho’s warmth spreading through him. Youngho breathes a sigh of sated relief as the strongest of his waves of pleasure subside, stroking Doyoung’s hair and kissing his face while the younger rides out his orgasm.

When Youngho feels the majority of Doyoung’s contractions stop, he eases out of him. He remains on top of Doyoung, taking in the sound of both of their labored breathing and beating hearts as he rests his head atop Doyoung’s chest. When Doyoung comes to enough, he raises a shaky hand to card through Youngho’s hair, only to realize that Youngho is fast asleep. He gazes upon him fondly, coming to the conclusion that Youngho had indeed been tired, and he’s glad that he’ll at least get a few hours before he has to guard the castle wall. He briefly contemplates keeping Youngho from his duty so that they can stay like this for the remainder of the evening and night. And if anyone tries to reprimand Youngho for missing his post, then he’ll tell them that he was “punishing” him for “stealing”.

Doyoung’s heart jumps in his chest at the way Youngho stirs on top of him. The elder mutters something in his sleep before pressing his face further into Doyoung’s chest. Doyoung’s heart swells with how cute his knight can be sometimes, a distinct contrast from when he’s seen him in combat training.

“You’re my prince too” Doyoung mumbles under his fatigue ridden breath. He lets his hand rest in Youngho’s hair as he listens to the shallows puffs of air leaving the knight’s nose. And like that, they both finally fall asleep in each other’s arms again, and Doyoung dreams of the day when they can at last love each other freely.

**Author's Note:**

> Johndo fam, what do we think? Let me know down in the comments, or at my twitter or cc
> 
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